Unforgiven
by Ink Viper
Summary: [The cruelest thing you could do is save his life]There is little you can do for the dead or those close to it, but sometimes it's the little things that can mean the most. Itachi's death next to the one he loved most through a hunternin's eyes. ItaNaru,O


Disclaimer: ...for God's sake, don't rub it in...

Warning: DEATH, BLOOD, STRANGENESS, SHORT, OC-CENTERED AND IMPLIED **ITANARU**

Summary: The cruelest thing you could do is save his life There is very little you can do for those who are dead or close to it-- but sometimes it's the little things that can mean the most. The death of Itachi next to the one he loved most through the eyes of a hunter-nin. ItaNaru, OC-centered. Give it a chance.

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The sun is setting, casting shadows of ragged crimson. Godaime-sama's face is pinched and her eyes are troubled, her lips in a tight compressed line. She is short and curt as she gives you the orders to search the battlefield. She does not say what for, but you already know. You feel a moment's flash of pity, but cut it down ruthlessly as soon as it appears. Pity has no place in war.

"He has to be there," Godaime-sama insists to no one in particular, eyes peering sharply into the horizon for something she can't see, "He promised."

You keep silent, knowing she will not hear you if you speak now. You have seen that look in many others eyes before, including your own-- the state of unfeeling, your whole body focused on praying the one you love will come back, smiling, eyes glinting with that special light that's just for you, saying 'what were you so worried about, of course I wouldn't leave you'--

You shake your head, unsure if it's at Godaime-sama or yourself, and turn to go. You feel her eyes on your back, burning in their intensity.

"Izanami," she says, then stops. You do not answer.

You never know what to say anyway.

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The battlefield is oppressively silent as you make your way through it. You don't want to look at the faces of those who have fallen, to find out if they're your comrades or your acquaintences (you can't use the word 'friend' without your heart aching), but you have to.

Orange is supposed to stand out anywhere-- why can't you see it now? You crane your head, hoping for a glimpse of bright yellow or even a glint of blue. It's no use. Everything, everywhere, is smeared with a rusty brown color, whether it be dirt or dried blood. Bitterly, you wish for rain to wash it all away, but the sky remains stubbornly clear.

Go figure.

You turn your face away from a corpse that's facedown in a puddle of blood and force yourself not to think of Kiyoshi, blood trickling from his mouth as you held him and he struggled to breathe, and run on. He is not here.

You race into the forest, slightly thankful for the soft woodsy scent that covers the stench of battle. There's a small chance that Naruto is here-- the forest always was where he fought best. There were times when you simply couldn't stomach your work anymore, and you fled into the forest to hide behind a tree and peer out at the Jinchuuriki as he trained, watching him as he yelled and grinned, and rarely, when he looked like he was crying. He never did, but still...

You wish he could have cried, and you did so for him in silence. He never knew you were there, never even knew your name, and you half-wished he had for some unfathomable reason.

There is a flicker of orange out of the corner of your eye and you stop, turning your face and expecting to be greeted by a foxy grin or a shout of 'what took you so damn long'. Kami-sama gives you no such quarter.

Naruto is still, and that in itself is an oddity. As long as you have watched him, he has never been still and unmoving. He is splayed gracefully on the ground (you can't help but think of the irony in that because Naruto was _never _graceful in life-- no, stop, don't think that), legs curved like he is running, one hand outstretched as if he is reaching for something. Those brilliant blue eyes are half-open, lips slightly parted as if he is trying to say something.

No breath escapes those lips.

You stand there stupidly, uncomprehendingly. You can't see anything wrong with him except the trickle of blood from his mouth, and you find that oddly comforting, that he is practically untouched.

It does not disguise the fact that you feel like your world has been shredded to pieces in front of you. You had once looked into those laughing blue eyes and felt warm and peaceful because you were certain, so goddamned _certain_, that there was light in the world and you had something to live for. Now, all light is gone.

The shifting of fabric makes you look down, wondering hazily why the world won't stop swirling and blurring. Laying several feet away from Naruto is none other than Uchiha Itachi, S-class missing nin and murderer of his clan. In contrast to the Jinchuuriki, Itachi looks like he has been dragged through Hell and back. He is cut and bruised, blood-smeared and panting, and you're fairly sure that his left arm is broken, judging by the bone jutting through his skin. But he's reaching, with that very same mangled arm, towards Naruto's outstretched hand. His arm strains desperately, and you find yourself holding your breath and silently encouraging him-- but his arm drops, fingers curling in and clenching furiously. It is too far.

You bite your lip savagely, thinking of Kiyoshi and how you ran through this same forest screaming his name, how you fell over his body and clung to him, begging him not to leave you. How he seemed so relieved as he died, because in the end it was too much for him, and you weren't enough.

Itachi coughs raggedly, blood flying from his lips. On instinct, you move and appear inbetween Naruto and Itachi, kneeling at the missing-nin's side. His jaw clenches when he sees you and his entire body trembles, but there is nothing he can do, should you decide to cut off his head as your profession dictates. He is too tired to even keep up his Sharingan. You remove your mask, and he blinks in surprise-- hunter-nins never remove their masks. 

"Izanami-san?" he whispers hoarsely. You start in shock, then settle back, amused in spite of the situation and what's left of your world lying cold and still behind you. You should remember that Itachi never forgets a face, no matter what. Even if it was an (at the time) annoyed hunter-nin threatening to string him up in a tree for some long-forgotten reason.

"What happened?" you ask, not really wanting to know. Those abyss-black eyes flicker in pain.

"He released the entirety of the Kyuubi's power," he replies quietly. That's all he needs to say. No living being can withstand all of the fox's chakra. You don't ask why, because the guilt and pain you read in the normally stoic Uchiha's eyes tells you everything you need to know. 

Itachi looks past you to Naruto (you can't call it his corpse, because you're still holding onto the tattered hope that he'll get up and say 'fooled you' but you're the fool here aren't you Izanami), and you see the yearning and frustration in his face, and you know what he wants.

You could save him. The wounds he has are serious, but can still be healed. But the cruelest thing you could do, Izanami, is save his life and leave his heart to lie cold and broken with Naruto on the blood-soaked forest floor.

There is little you can do for him, so pitifully little. But still...

You reach down and awkwardly tug Itachi into your arms, trying not to aggravate his wounds and not doing a very good job of it at the same time as you pick him up. Surprisingly, he doesn't weigh that much, so it's easier than you thought it would be. Itachi looks stunned and a little angry, and you half-think you're going to get a kunai jammed somewhere painful and possibly fatal. His expression softens when you lay him next to Naruto, and he even goes so far as to give you a little smile, and you know you've made the right decision for once in your life. You back away, but stay close-- no one else must come to destroy this moment.

Naruto is cradled in Itachi's arms, the Uchiha's face buried in his bright hair, and he's speaking to him. Out of respect, you don't listen and turn away, not intruding on this painfully private scene. You shut your eyes and think instead of how Naruto's eyes always reminded you of the blue butterflies you used to chase when you were a child. You were overjoyed when you finally caught one, but that happiness quickly turned to tears when you discovered your clumsy young hands had destroyed the frail, beautiful insect.

Kiyoshi had found you in the meadow, crouched down and crying over the butterfly in your hands. He had shaken his head sadly, and held you as you sobbed helplessly. _Butterflies aren't meant to be caught, Izanami_, Kiyoshi chided gently, _They're meant to be free, to fly, and not be placed in a jar to be stared at and poked._

Wherever Kiyoshi had gone, you had followed. When he had gone to the Academy to become a shinobi, you followed him, because coward that you were, you couldn't bear to think he was going to leave you behind. This had made Kiyoshi angry and he told you that you weren't suited to be a kunoichi-- you, who cried over dead butterflies and who tried to bring dead birds back to life. He knew that becoming a kunoichi would crush your compassionate heart, and he was right.

In spite of that, you stayed and did your best to become a good medic-nin. But then, the war with Iwagakure came, and before you even had time to register what had happened, Kiyoshi was gone and along with him, everything that made you you. 

You don't know how long it's been, but you know it's been long enough when the low murmur of Itachi's voice tapers off. When you look at him, you almost fall off the tree branch you are perched on. Uchiha Itachi is shedding tears, bright droplets of light spattering Naruto's face and washing away the grime of war.

"Naru..to..." he rasps, a small smile curving up on his lips. "I'll be...right behind you...just like I promised..."

And then he is still.

It's only then that you realize you have been crying.

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It is painful to see Godaime-sama's face, filled with hope and unspoken pleas. You resist the urge to shut your eyes-- she cannot see your face anyway, now that you have put your mask back on.

"Well?" she prompts, her brown eyes begging you to tell her that Naruto is still breathing, still smiling, still declaring he will become Hokage. A lump closes over your throat, and you know any words you planned to say are of no use to you anymore. Gently, you pull the Nidaime's necklace from your pocket and lay it on the desk in front of her, and shove your hands back in your pockets before she can see your cracked and dirt-encrusted nails. You were never any good with doton jutsus anyway, but bare hands are hard to dig a grave with. 

She crumbles, but makes no sound as she weeps. The necklace she now clutches tightly in her fist rests against her face. You freeze-- you have no right to see this. You want to say something, anything, to make her stop, to make that sound stop tearing at your heart. But you can't say a thing. You never can, can you?

The sun is coming up, and it's light is framing Godaime-sama's hunched, shaking silhouette. It illuminates Konoha, showing her in all her glory and her proud citizens. It strikes the tears that shine like precious jewels on the Hokage's desk and the floor in front of you.

Somehow, it does not seem as bright today.

**END**

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Well now that that bit of weirdness is out of my system--holy shit...I just killed Itachi and Naruto...I'm going to die, aren't I? (flees to some dark corner of the world)

Izanami-- she who opens the door (I think it fits, in a roundabout way) 


End file.
